


Three Strands

by Blissymbolics



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Secret Santa, cute nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissymbolics/pseuds/Blissymbolics
Summary: “You have beautiful hair,” Roy hums, and Ed all but rolls his eyes.“I’ve heard this song before.”“And you’ll hear it again. And again and again and again.”
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 15
Kudos: 178
Collections: FMA Gift Exchange 2019





	Three Strands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlaucidiumPasserinum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlaucidiumPasserinum/gifts).



> Happy holidays GlaucidiumPasserinum! Hope you enjoy this small gift :)

Ed can feel the brush sliding through his damp hair, catching on all the small knots and tugging them free. Soon the brush is gliding smoothly, scraping pleasantly against his scalp. After a few more strokes Roy sets it down next to him on the couch and begins separating Ed’s hair into segments. First he gathers up two handfuls from around his temples, trying to sort them into even bundles. Then he pulls them back tight and gathers a third piece from the center, beginning to weave the three together. 

Ed can tell that he’s out of practice. He hasn’t done this in over a year, and it seems to take him a minute or so to remember all the mechanics.

Ed had to cut his hair short just over a year ago after getting a six-month research residency down in Aerugo. Much to his annoyance, Roy informed him that men in Aerugo universally wear their hair short, and arriving at the university with hair past his shoulders would be akin to walking into a government building barefoot.

Ed didn’t give in so easily though. He was fully prepared to ignore this cultural norm entirely, but at the eleventh hour he changed his mind. At fifteen he wouldn’t have given a shit, but ten years later he’s annoyingly self-conscious about absurd things like social decorum. Besides, he wasn’t too keen on being singled out as an eccentric foreigner for the entirety of his stay.

He remembers the night Roy cut it all off. They were sitting in front of the fireplace, just like they are now. Roy braided it for him one last time and put an extra elastic band at the top so that it would stay intact after being severed. His hair is thick though, and it took several hacks with the scissors before it finally fell loose, leaving him with empty weight similar to a phantom limb.

He started growing his hair out again as soon as he got back, and now it’s finally long enough to braid, but just barely. It’ll be easier in a few more months, and in a year it should be back to its original length. His hair grows quickly. It shouldn’t be grey by the time it reaches his mid-back.

“You have beautiful hair,” Roy hums, and Ed all but rolls his eyes.

“I’ve heard this song before.”

“And you’ll hear it again. And again and again and again.”

Ed tampers down the blush rising to his cheeks and focuses on the fire burning in front of him. He stretches out his feet and flexes his toes against the heat.

“How much you think I could get for it? I kinda regret not selling it off last year.”

“For hair like this, probably at least three hundred thousand. You could still sell it if you want. I have your old braid upstairs in the closet.”

“Wait, really?”

He tries to turn his head, but Roy tersely steers him back towards the fire.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Why’d you keep it?”

“What was I supposed to do with it?”

“Um, throw it away.”

Roy scoffs, as if it were an absurd suggestion.

“I couldn’t just toss it in the trash with some moldy potatoes and old leftovers. It was a part of you.”

“Do you keep all my toenail clippings too?”

Roy gives his hair a light tug in retaliation.

“People keep the hair of loved ones all the time.”

“Yeah, they keep a couple strands in a locket; they don’t keep enough to make a damn wig.”

“Your mom must have kept all your baby teeth.”

“She died before I lost any.”

Roy’s hands go still, but he doesn’t let any hair fall from his grip.

Ed mentally kicks himself for saying something so morbid. Well, it's not morbid per se. It’s just the truth. He didn’t lose his first tooth until she was three months buried, and he didn’t lose his last one until a month before his State Alchemist Exam.

Damn, he really was a baby, teeth and all.

“Al and I kept them anyway though since they were cool,” he says quickly, hoping to lighten the mood. “We threw a rock on one to see how easily it would break. Turns out the answer is easily.”

Roy gives a soft laugh and resumes his work, and a few seconds later Ed feels him twist an elastic around the end. Then Roy places both hands on either side of his head and gently tilts him back so that he can place a kiss on the crown of his head, sending a small shudder down his spine.

“All done.”

“Thanks.”

After releasing him, Ed twists back to grab the brush off the couch. He yanks out the loose hair from between the bristles and bundles it into a matted ball.

“Here.” He takes Roy’s hand and places the fluffy clump in his open palm. “For your collection.”

Roy smiles down at the hairball, giving it an experimental squeeze.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”

“Don’t spend it all in one place.”

With that, Ed crawls back up onto the couch and drapes himself over the entire length, resting his feet in Roy’s lap.

Roy himself is still fiddling with the gross clump of hair Ed gifted him, and he’s starting to worry that he’ll actually stuff it in his braid box.

“I don’t mind if you keep my hair. But if I go missing it’s going to look real bad for you if the military police find a severed braid in your closet.”

Roy smiles. “It’ll be worth it. Although you’d have a real easy time framing me now that you know it exists.”

“Nah, I can’t get rid of you yet. I never learned how to do a french braid on myself, and I’m way too old to learn now.”

“You just learned an entire language in six months.”

“Irrelevant.”

Ed raises his foot so he can rub it against Roy’s face, the light grate of stubble like sand against his skin.

“Seriously, you better throw that away.” He uses his toes to gesture to the clump of matted hair still sitting in Roy’s palm.

“Why? It was a gift.”

“Real shitty gift. Who gave it to you?”

“That’s rude. He made it himself.”

Ed lightly smacks him across the cheek with his foot, right before hooking it around his neck to pull him in closer.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Three Strands 三股辫](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002249) by [castlyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlyre/pseuds/castlyre)




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